If You Can Hear
by ThePeopleStillSleeping
Summary: Not Chekov. Never Chekov. God, why Chekov? "Pavel, I love you too. And I'll never stop." Rated M for character death and general angst. ChekovOC Chekov X OC


_When reading, please listen to "Whispering" and "Those You've Known" from the musical Spring Awakening._

"Chekov!" cried the girl as she crashed through the doors of the medic bay. McCoy looked up from the unconscious Chekov toward a gasping ensign who was now searching his eyes for some sort of happy news.

The light dimmed in her eyes when she discovered the truth. "What's wrong?" she asked, desperate and a little breathless from her long run across the USS Enterprise.

Dr. McCoy glanced away from her gaze, determined not to look at her and watch her shatter as they all would when they heard the news. "He's been poisoned," he answered stoically.

"They have antidotes for poison," the girl shot back, desperate for anything.

McCoy grimaced. "Not this one they don't."

"Then find one," she commanded, her voice strangely hollow.

"Dammit, ensign!" said McCoy, irritated at her and himself, "there is no antidote we can get him in time!" Silence answered his remark and he continued. "At the moment, he's under a sedative - he should wake up soon. When he does, the rest of the crew - including yourself - can visit him." The doctor looked at the ensign and strode over to put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. This is going to be hard on all of us. He doesn't have very long left."

The girl shrugged off his hand and simply stared at the unconscious Chekov for a bit. McCoy had turned around to begin writing the report when she spoke again. "Out."

The doctor looked over his shoulder, not sure he had heard correctly. "What?"

Her hand grasped his wrist as she half dragged him towards the door. "Out," she said again, just as calmly as the first time.

McCoy snapped his wrist out of her grip. "You have no right-"

"GET OUT!" she screamed, "GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!"

McCoy stepped backwards, startled. "Ensig-"

"DAMMIT! GETOUTGETOUTGETOUT!"

McCoy stumbled out of the medic bay in shock. The ensign looked tearfully up at the doors and commanded, "Computer. Lock Doors."

The doors slid shut in front of McCoy's face as he pondered what just happened. "The Captain needs to know about this," he muttered before jogging up to the bridge.

* * *

Ensign Célia took in shuddering gasping sobs after her outburst. He couldn't be dying. Not Chekov. Never Chekov. God, why Chekov.

"Oh, _Моя любовь_, my love," murmured a voice behind her.

Her breath hitched. "Chekov," she whispered before she rushed over to where the man was lying on the medic bed, looking at her worriedly.

She gripped his hand and pressed it tenderly to her cheek. He watched her before gently murmuring, "You should not have yelled at Meester Meekoy. Remember - none of ze crew know about us."

Célia sniffled. "I'm sorry."

Chekov smiled softly. "It is fine." His smile widened. "You've still got it, da?"

Célia choked out a laugh. "Oh, Pasha, only you," she said, smiling as well, using his pet name as she dug through her pockets. "Of course I have it. I kept wishing we weren't keeping it secret, so I could show it off and get those girls to stop flirting with you," she said as she pulled out the tiny, black box Pavel had given her the night before.

Chekov looked in her eyes, oozing calm despite his frightening words. "I zink zat under ze circumstances, you may wear it."

Célia stopped smiling but did as he asked, opening the box and slipping the ring over the ring finger of her left hand. She looked over at him to find that he was looking at her.

"_Моя жена_. My wife," he sighed happily, grabbing her hand and rubbing it with his own.

Tears filled her eyes but she smiled nonetheless. "Not quite. But as close as we're going to get, _sí mi marido_?"

Pavel's smile disappears at Célia's words. "Hey...can we pretend...I'm not dying?"

Célia frowned deeply. "Pasha..."

"Célia, please. Are you not supposed to obey ze last requests of a dying man?"

"You aren't going to die!" she snaps irritatedly "And you just admitted you were dying _idiota_!"

Chekov and Célia sat in silence, the only sound being the steady beeping of the machine keeping track of his heartbeats.

Chekov abruptly broke the silence. "So where are we getting married, Célia?"

Célia jerked her head up as if to shame Chekov again but stopped abruptly at the pleading in his eyes. He didn't want to be reminded that he was being eaten slowly from the inside by poison. So she smiled, fighting back tears. "Haven't thought about it. But Uhura is going to be my maid of honor...even though she doesn't know who I am. But I admire her."

Chekov smiled. "How about ze ice planet? We can have ze Keptin keep out unwanted hunters."

The twinkle of mirth in his blue eyes made Célia chuckle. "Yeah," she said, "and we'll have Scotty manage catering since he knows so much about eating on ice planets. Spock will marry us since he is the most official of the crew."

Pavel rubbed her ring absently before speaking. "Sulu will haf to be my best man. And Meester Meekoy will be our ring bearer."

Célia burst out laughing. "_Dios mio,_ Pasha! I see it now! The most ill-tempered ring-bearer in all of the universe, grumbling about he should've been a groomsman instead of the ring boy, all while he walks down the aisle! Let's make him carry the silly pillow with the lace, too!

Chekov's laugh echoed throughout the medical bay and Célia grinned at how simply youthful he sounded. But the laughter faded into frantic coughing too quickly, and the light-hearted mood faded into something more serious.

Célia attempted to distract from the serious mood. "Our children, _mi amor_, what shall we name our children?"

Pavel's eyebrow rose. "My god, _Моя любовь_, you are going to be ze end of me! Wasn't last night enough for you, little firecracker?"

Célia smirked. "I can never get enough of you, Pavel Andreievich Chekov," she said, eyebrow quirked with suggestiveness.

Pavel smirked back before suggesting, "For a girl, Lucya. Or some Spanish name if you prefer."

Célia thought for a bit. "Lucya Estrella Chekov. That sounds rather pretty, I think."

"And for a boy?" he asked, ignoring the fact that he was beginning to be unable to feel his legs.

Célia fiddled with Chekov's hair for a bit, before answering. "Why, Pavel Andreievich Chekov, of course. Just like his father. And they'll have your brains."

Pavel couldn't feel his torso now. "Zey'll haf your voice. Your beautiful voice that sings lullabies about ze rain."

Célia nodded. "And our son will want to be a navigator just like _su padre_ and our daughter will want to be something girly, like a fashion designer or a model."

"And as her fazer, I must defend my daughter from ze multitudes of boys zat will try to date her," said Pavel, managing a determined expression, despite his weakened state.

"You will make an amazing papá," reassured Célia, "much better than your father."

Pavel was silent for a moment. "And when ze children are grown up and we're retired, where will we lif?"

His voice was getting weaker and weaker, and Célia was struggling to not cry. "We'll live somewhere, where it's nice and cold like Russia-"

"Like home," he broke in, coughing as he breathed in.

"Like home," she repeated, "and our house will have big, tall trees surrounding it. And on Sunday's we'll drive to the local restaurant, where they serve _sopapillas _and we'll eat the ones with honey spread on them and when our kids come and visit us we'll have the grandchildren playing in the yard-" she broke off, tears finally making their comeback.

Pavel forced a shaking hand to her cheek, before he lost control of his hands and it dropped. "Lia," he whispered, unable to speak any louder.

"Pasha," whimpered Célia, "Pasha, please!"

"Lia...never forget...I love you," he whispered. When she didn't answer, he hissed more urgently, "I love you so much."

Célia's defenses broke and tears started to stream down her face. "Pavel, I love you too," she managed to choke out, "and I always will."

"_Моя любовь_..._ Моя жена_..._Моя жизнь_," he said.

Then he drew his last breath.

And he died.

* * *

They were watching.

They had been since Doctor McCoy had alerted them to the Ensign's reaction to Chekov's poisoning.

Uhura, Sulu, Spock, McCoy, Scotty, and Kirk all watched partly in guilt and partly in curiosity at Chekov's and Célia's last final moments together.

But what was the most heartbreaking was after Chekov breathed his last.

"Pasha. Pasha, no. PASHA! NO!" screamed Célia, shaking his shoulders frantically.

When it became clear that he would not answer (and would never answer again) she tilted her head back and screamed to the ceiling, making the small microphone on the camera feed back.

Wails echoed harshly as Celia leaned her head over Chekov's, her hair framing his face and her tears dripping onto his pale, cooling face. She buried her face into his shirt, attempting to stifle her sobs, before the chair she was precariously balancing on tipped over.

She landed heavily on the floor. But she didn't try to stand up or right herself at all. She curled into a ball and looked up at the ceiling.

"_If you can hear_," she sang shakily, "_can I just say: how much I want you to stay."_ She broke off into sobs and buried her head in between her knees.

Kirk turned off the camera. He couldn't watch anymore.

"McCoy," he ordered quietly, "I'll come with you to the medic bay. Prepare Chekov's body for...Uhura, you take care of the ensign. I don't want anyone killing themselves tonight."

"Yes, captain," answered Uhura and McCoy.

* * *

"I wish to resign from Starfleet."

Determined dead brown eyes burrowed into the normally lively eyes of the Captain. It had been three days since Chekov had died, with Célia under the careful care of Uhura, who had swallowed her grief to take care of a person who's heart had been ripped out of her chest.

James T. Kirk sighed deeply before sitting upright in his chair. "Why do you wish to resign?"

"Sir, I believe that I am unable to properly perform my duties," she answered stiffly.

He studied Célia for a while before speaking quietly. "We're all hurting, you know that?" She flinched but stayed at attention as he continued. "We have therapists that can help you get over Chekov."

Célia drew in a deep breath. "If I may speak freely, Captain?"

Kirk hesitated before catching a barely susceptible nod from Uhura. "I encourage it," Kirk said simply.

Célia relaxed her stance, sorrow overtaking her face. "Sir, there is no getting over Chekov - not on this ship, where every inch forces the memory to remember happier times." She glanced back toward the chair where a new, promising cadet was working the navigation controls, a darkness passing over her eyes before turning back to the Capatin. "With all due respect, you don't know this ache, Captain."

Kirk winced, but tried again. "Ensign, if you resign, you'll never be able to come back. We can all help each other - help each other heal. You need people who understand you."

Célia was silent for a moment. "Captain. What is my name?"

Kirk blinked at the question. "Ensign Rodz."

Her eyes appeared to burn holes into his brain. "My full name."

Kirk opened his mouth to reply...but closed it after a moment. Célia nodded. "As I thought. How can one possibly understand me, if they do not know my name?" No one on the bridge answered. Célia turned to Spock. "Beg pardon, Mr. Spock, but as I must prepare for my voyage home, I should go pack. I presume you will inform Starfleet of my decision."

She strode quickly to the turbo-lift, determined to look no one in the eye. Suddenly, she spun around. "Célia Isabel Rodz." When the bridge looked at her in confusion, she explained. "That is my name."

The turbo-lift doors shut with a hiss.

* * *

**Моя любовь - my love**

**Моя жена - my wife**

**Моя жизнь - my life**

**sí mi marido - yes my husband**

**idiota - idiot**

**Dios mio - My God**

**mi amor - my love**

**su padre - His father**

**The one line of the song that Célia sings is from Legally Blonde the Musical. The song is called "Legally Blonde."**

**So...you sad yet? TELL ME ABOUT IT IN THE REVIEWS. **


End file.
